


Mianite Season Two

by LadyKrystine



Category: Mianite - Fandom
Genre: Multi, Realm of Mianite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKrystine/pseuds/LadyKrystine
Summary: A collection of my side stories written during Season Two.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. I Dream of Apples

I dreamed of apples last night. And the night before. And every night for the last month. It’s so real that I can smell them, taste them… feel them. And the one who grows them. He’s so real in my dreams that I could reach out and take his hand, brush his hair out of his face. Maybe, if I felt so brave, give him a kiss on the cheek like I used to before Mother disappeared – before I disappeared. No one noticed that I left except for him.

In the dreams, it’s ethereal. I know it isn’t real. The scenery isn’t as bright and vivid as it should be. I’m looking through a veil of smoke and cloud and haze. I try to move, but I feel slow. If I run, I feel sick. I want to curl up and cry. Never before had I felt so powerless.

But one thing kept me going. I could hear his voice.

“Martha! Get over here mate and tame this scrub with me!” “Martha! Where’d you put me bloody tool box? You been throwing it into a croc river again? I need em to tame the bush!” “For goodness sake shella. I told you we’d go into the outback later!” “Hey, um… Cheers for ya help.”

Flashes of memories, being younger and first knowing him, helping out when I could. It was a nice break from working with my brother or being under the wing of my mother and father. He never treated me like something too precious to spend her free time working on a farm. When he called for me, I came back without hesitation. Now that I’m here, I don’t want to leave again.

When we went to Inertia the first time, I knew I wasn’t competent enough in combat. I would be of little help with keeping him strong and able. But he sent me back to prepare the heroes. I wanted to protest, but he asked, and I agreed. He makes me a fool.

Since he sent me back, the dreams have become more vivid. I can hear him talking and shouting and protesting and fighting. I can see him standing in his cell, shaking the bars, trying to find any way out. It fades, then I see myself there, standing just outside the cell, wanting with all my heart to reach out to him, but I can’t. Our heroes are busy searching for the way to free him, and I can’t do anything. Not here. Not without alerting guards or worse, Mianite.

Syndi came back and gave him apples. Why didn’t I think of bringing some? The dear wizard was more prepared. What had I done? I prepared some falsified importer permits and helped bring iron and gold ingots. I wore armor for the first time in a while.

“You looked good in it Martha.”

I was sitting on the flying RV, torn between my nephew and him. I had just freed myself from the armor, commenting that it didn’t suit me. I knew I blushed, but I hoped I hid it well behind my hair and by turning away. It was rare for him to compliment me like that, especially in front of others. I don’t know what he considers me – a lover, a friend, something else – but I know I care for him deeply. I can’t tell him that. As I was regaining myself, he spoke again.

“Mind you, you’d look good in anything.”

I woke up then and the sun was just rising, breaking the horizon. I was confused at first, wondering where I was, before I remembered I had slept in his bed that night. I wanted to be close to him, knowing that I’d see him soon. I prepared myself for the journey and settled into the thought that, weaponless and near powerless save for insight, I would don that armor and join the heroes. I would do my part to save him. Before that, though, what is that smell?

Apples. I always dream of apples.


	2. Two Sides to the Coin

Spark: I think I met the Ianite of this realm. She came to me one night, called me her hero. I don’t know what to think of it. She looks different than my love, and her voice is different. It’s not as strong and resonant. It’s… weak. She called me Captain, but she’s so weak I don’t think I have the heart to correct her. I wonder, though, if the people of this world, the source of all the abandoned houses, have also disappeared. Maybe they’re in our world. Maybe I’m only a Captain here, not an Admiral. What a demotion… Still, I think this world’s Ianite will help us. That’s more than enough. Jeriah says we’re getting closer to where we need to go. My love, my lady. I will return to you. Yours through the realms, Spark.

CountryBat: There’s one thing I miss about home more than just about anything. The flowers. I used to cover Spark in them when we first met, decorating him. I think it endeared him to me and made him like me. The last couple years, he’s been nice. He and Jeriah help keep me safe, warm, and fed. I even helped build my own house! It’s only two rooms, but it’s made with this cute pink wood. Here, though, I don’t have my home. I’m younger than the others, and I’ve lost two homes. They insist we’ll make it back, but I’m losing hope. Bit by bit, I’m losing hope. But! I must stay optimistic. Maybe Prince Andor will be older, too, and Spark will let me play with him like we did before when we were younger. It would be nice to have another friend… Yes. That’s it! I’ll make it home with and for my friends!

Jeriah Two months. That’s what he promised. We’d be here and find the goal and fix it in two months. It’s been longer than that. Sure, we’ve made progress and there’s plenty here to sustain us for months more, years more. I’m glad we’re making progress, and we’ve caught glimpses of this world’s remaining gods. This Mianite I could tolerate, and the Lady is less of a giddy teenager and more mature. At least we know the task. We’re getting closer. I know we’ll make it. I just hope it won’t take much longer. Oh how I hate when things take longer than planned…

Mot: They’re all a lot of idealist fools. All three of them. Don’t they know what’s happening? We’re being led on a wild goose chase. Ianite doesn’t know anything. Why would she help return the god who imprisoned her? It doesn’t make sense. If I didn’t need Dianite back in both our world and this one, I’d be out of here. There’s a fancy, hardly-used castle I found. I could make it my home. Live like a king, like I deserve. I worked my way up from nothing. I’m only here out of loyalty to my god. That’s all. Loyalty for a god. Loyalty to men. Both make a person blind to reality. Time will tell how this ends, who is truly blind and who truly sees.


	3. CountryBat's Diary

Spark and Ser Jeriah have been helping me learn to improve my writing. I lived with my tribe for so long that I never truly learned… what are they called… nuances? Yes. Nuances of language. We spoke differently at home than when we traded or worked with people in the city. It was so much more sophisticated with others.

Of the three I am with, I met Mot first. He was a merchant, and my mother traded with him from time to time. He was always cold and standoffish, but he would give me little treats when I was little. He isn’t the same man I knew back then. He is distressed and almost always tense and upset. I see him writing sometimes, like when Spark does, but I wish I knew what he wrote about. He won’t tell me no matter how often I ask. I think I just annoy him.

I used to ask how many days had passed, but Spark quit answering at some point. I accepted the silence after a while, and I think that made him happy. Sometimes he treats me like I am one of his children. He protects me. Maybe I remind him of his daughter. I think her name was Martha. I saw her once or twice, but I was too scared to get close to her. Though I don’t mind how he treats me, not really. I understand his loss – all of their loss, even – just as well as any of them understand loss, but I just don’t have the same words to express it.

Jeriah has been so nice. He protects me and teaches me how to protect myself. I can kind of use a short sword. Or is it a dagger? I don’t know. A giant spider came and attacked us, jumping on me, and I managed to fight it off without their help. I think I owe Jeriah a lot for his lessons. Maybe I can tell him, in my own words, how appreciative I am.

I know we’re here to restore balance, at least that’s what they told me after I followed them, but since I was found and brought to the city, these town folk have become a new family. When they saved me, my family was dying around me. I was the last one well enough. I didn’t hesitate to leave. I regret that, leaving my mother and little brother there dying, but Spark and Jeriah and Mot? They’re my new tribe now. My new family…

And I will do whatever I can to help them find their happiness again.


	4. Martha's Coin

Lately my visions have been cloudy. The more turbulence I have in my heart, the harder it is to make sense of anything. Typically I don’t put much faith in penning my thoughts, but it might be exactly what I need. A change of pace compared to my normal strategy. Yes… the best way to attack the fog.

I found a coin the other day, and I spent most of the evening pondering the two sides of my heart’s coin. The two men in my life. My longtime friend and partner in crime, the man who never put me on a pedestal because my mother is a goddess. The one I love on so many levels. My farmer. My Steve.

But then there’s the wizard. He understands me on a mystical, magical level. He showed me glimpses of a world filled with adventure and excitement. Playful, flirty… makes me feel like a much younger version of myself. Perhaps closer to how I was when I met Steve… but still. Where the other heroes are loyal to their gods and are favored, my wizard has no such luck. Were I a goddess, he would be my champion. I truly love him, but he is not of my world. One day he will have to return to his home… and though I could go with him, it isn’t my place. How long would our flirting with newness and excitement last once he is surrounded by the familiar?

To understand, I must be honest. I want Steve. I always have. But… I have other needs – other considerations – that must play a role in my decision. Though I don’t want to be on that pedestal others have placed me on, I still need to feel loved and cherished. I need to see I am adored. It is not enough to be told behind closed doors that I am wanted. I want it to be known! In hiding, I am but a pretty accessory donned when convenient and stored otherwise.

That is how Steve treated me. I asked him, openly, to be mine, to marry one day, and he turned me away. I was cast aside, little regard for how I felt. Take things slow, he asked, but I took it as a sign he wasn’t interested in such a light. Was I supposed to live out my days, however many there were, hoping he would fulfill the half-hearted promise of forever?

But then I began to favor my wizard more. The gifts grew in size from the flower to a small dagger. To other trinkets. It became more hints of my growing affection and me hoping to persuade him to be my champion if I ever needed one. If I were to ever ascend to godhood, he would be my first – and only – choice.

It was to my surprise when he began to return the affection. For a little while, I forgot Steve’s half-hearted promises of “one day” and “forever”. It was a welcome surprise, of course, and I never thought how Steve would react. It was only after the party, when my wizard gave me a ring he called the ring of claiming, that I stopped and thought how Steve would react.

That was when I knew I needed to talk to Steve. I had it set in my heart that, were he unable to show me the kind of love and affection I needed, that I was leaving him and continuing the fling with my wizard. Why have I been so fearful to write his name down? Waglington. Waggles. The one who will forever bear possession of a piece of my heart. Perhaps it’s because I knew he will return to his own world one day.

I set myself up for this. Yes. I will give him this ultimatum. I will tell him this. I will hide the anger I feel knowing that these men fought over me while I was gone… and maybe I’ll win the man who has held my heart for so long. Either that, or just wait until my dear uncle has words with him.

There are two sides to the coin, and perhaps this time, I can choose instead of leaving it to fate.


	5. Mot and CountryBat 1

Mot stood in the grand hall of the castle he had claimed, lost in quiet contemplation. The others, whom he allowed to take residence in the halls furthest away from him, were all out. Even little Alyssa, who spent the majority of her time playing as Mot’s shadow. As she grew up, she just got less sneaky about it. At 16, she spent less time following him around directly in his shadow and more time just around him. It worried the mottled man, but he pushed it aside like most of his thoughts and feelings.

He couldn’t hide that he held a soft spot for the girl. When she came to market with her mother, Aimee, she was so tiny and innocent… like he was when he was that little. When he was 3, he was still loved and cared for by his parents. So was she. When he was 5, the creepers attacked his home village, destroying it, killing his family, and leaving him infected with the poisonous spore that gave creepers their pattern. It filled him and slowly but surely, his skin was replaced by the multi-shade green splotches like those damned beasts.

Thanks went to Dianite every night for stopping the spread and sparing him a full conversion into the hissing bastards that were responsible for so much…

Whenever he made one of his trips out to the country to visit the pagan village that reminded him so much of home, he was sure to bring a small cake from Captain Sprinkles’ bakery for the tiny one. Being so young, she likely never experienced the sweets of the big city, and he felt some kinship toward this tiny child. She always thanked him and hugged his legs before running off to devour the treat.

The last of these trips was the day he returned home with more than just hugged legs and a moment of embarrassment. He made it in better time than he normally did, but it didn’t matter. He stopped where the small wooden archway once was, the one that framed the sole dirt path of the village. Scattered about were patches of burning houses and smoldering grass mixed with bodies.

He wasn’t sure what came over him that day that forced him to throw down his goods and run toward the house he knew to be Aimee and Alyssa’s. He found strength he didn’t know he had, pushing boards aside. The first one he found was the young mother, younger than even his own 20 years. Her form was curled up over something else, something still squirming and crying, though the protective mother was still. As carefully as he could manage, he rolled Aimee’s body over and scooped up the crying Alyssa.

Mot held her close, shushing her and trying to ease the flow of tears. For a man so cold and jaded, there was an unnatural warmth radiating from him. The little girl just sobbed, wrapping her arms around the man’s neck, clinging.

“Don’t worry, little one. I got you. I won’t let you go.”

The cheerful voice of a 16-year-old girl rang out in the hall. Within a matter of moments, Mot felt her body against his back, the victim of her pouncing and hugging him. He chuckled, amused and grateful for the distraction. She let him go and came to his front, holding out a shiny trinket.

“I brought you another treasure, Motty!” She said, obviously proud of herself.

He accepted the gold nugget and tucked it away. He was about to say something to her, but the voices of the other two men snuck up on him. He turned from the girl and stormed off in anger. Were he to tell the truth, he’d be smiling, but after a life of pain, one starts to believe they don’t deserve happiness.


	6. Visions of Men and Gods

Ianite: Martha? You wanted to talk?

Martha: I've just been feeling strange about going back to Urulu is all. So many memories.

Ianite: And lels? Ahem. I mean... Hmmm! You did get out a lot as a kid, didn't you. More than I expected you would! But that's quite like me. I shouldn't be surprised. You met Steve there, right?

Martha: I did. Do you remember those summers I spent there? Helping with the farming?

Ianite: Yes :)

Martha: Years spent helping before he finally thought to ask me on a proper date.

Ianite: When do you suppose he first saw you in that special way? Perhaps when you were holding a hoe?

Martha: I don't know! I know so much and have seen so many things, but I don't know. He never treated me like the daughter of a goddess, like most of the people in the towns we visited... just like any other farm hand.

Ianite: And? It sounds like you need something.

Martha: Doesn't it seem the least bit strange going back there without him?

Ianite: If you're extremely nostalgic, I suppose

Martha: I've been hit by the nostalgia bug lately, ever since I started to settle down. I just hope this trip is worth it. That we find a lead for Dianite's body... so he'll quit sending Steve out so often.

Ianite: I wonder if reviving Dianite will really free up Steve's time or have the opposite effect

Martha: Choosing him seem more and more like a poor idea the longer I dwell on it and the longer he's away.

Ianite: You're at that age when you really want to choose. Although I've never been mortal, I understand how you would want a steady partner during these last days. Spark wanted it too, until... the call

Martha: Last days. Come now, Mother, I'm not that old! I've many more years to live.

Ianite: HAHAHA. A millennium has made a pessimist out of me. Sorry, Daughter. I fed you well as kid. You'll live to at least a hundred.

Martha: Longer if goddesshood blesses me with such a kindness.

Ianite: It's hard to say what will happen. But I look forward to it. You're showing the discernment I have expected of you. Keep second guessing and following the narrow path, even if it means to suffer and be alone.

Martha: I thought pursuing this would make things clearer, encourage the growth and strength of my visions, but it only makes things cloudier.

Ianite: Yah

Martha: I just... I don't know what to do.

Ianite: I knew this great sage back in CountryBat's village. He kept saying, "Learning cannot begin until the confusion starts!" In this hilarious accent. I can't but lel at it even now.

Martha: Oh, yes. The little girl that followed Dianite's favorite merchant around... and when did you start picking up on the way our heroes talked?

Ianite: Eh? I didn't. Well, Spark and Sparklez, I have a knack for.

Martha: They do share speech patterns. I've noticed that. I'll hear voices and whispers and think it's Spark, but when I turn around, it's just Sparkly-boy.

Ianite: Anyway, I've been at a loss of things to do. And I've decided I would like to take Foxx to CountryBat's village one of these days; show her the place of her other self's childhood. I don't know for certain, but I get a sense that Foxx has had a hard growing up, and I want to show her how things can still be... Perhaps give her another chance at childhood. She might find it there, with those free and loving people who have detached themselves from the world's ways. Makes me wonder why I didn't settle down there... Oh right, it was that damned sage. AND THAT DAMNED TREE

Martha: Has the village been rebuilt since the fires ten years ago? That's wonderful. CountryBat will be pleased when she returns... and truly? Again with this tree?

Ianite: It's a bit scattered, but people enjoy life as much as ever. Well, the tree... It... never moved, like I wanted it to. I thought it was ok at first, just enjoying each other's presence. Then I wanted more. And the tree wished for it, too, but ultimately failed to transcend its tree-tality. and so I dumped him. The sage reprimanded me for that. He thought me oh so demanding. I said I'VE GOT A LIFE TO LIVE BITCHES. I'M OUT! Then I found Dagrun.

Martha: The city Spark built to win you over.

Ianite: Anyway, back to you. Not knowing what to do is better than pretending you know.

Martha: Oh, you know I've always enjoyed your tales. It serves as a wonderful distraction so I don't have to face my own concerns.

Ianite: :)

Martha: But really. I grow tired of Steve never being around, serving his god before his wife-to-be. This is what I've earned after these 20-some years of him never putting me up on that pedestal like Spark did to you. I can't be happy just waiting for him. He doesn't even know my plans!

*** Ianite tears up ***

Ianite: Let me hug you

Martha: I... I wouldn't object to that.

*** Ianite embraces Martha chest to chest, breathing slowly, sobbing ***

Martha: Come now. I should be the one crying between the two of us.

Ianite: I still regard that tree as my favorite lover. Do you know why?

Martha: Why?

Ianite: He never left me. And he still lives, waiting for me and only me. He doesn't understand any other world, any other life. I understand your longing for such a partner. And maybe you cannot have it, but... Steve is too flighty by far.

Martha: I love him, truly, but I can't bear to do this anymore, to sit around and wait. It's silly and childish to think that were I free of him that I'd have another lover waiting, but at least then I'd have someone around that at least understands the call of magic and the unknown.

Ianite: And someone that sees you for you.

Martha: Goddess. Best friend. Lover. All titles I could so easily accept from him.

Ianite: I'm not anti-Steve, you know that. But I'm pro-you. More than I can express. And I've come to know when you're suffering. And it hurts me when you do. Almost to the point of Tainting up the place!

Martha: Even without a 'forever', it's still better to surround myself with those who respect and understand me! One must have support in order to do great things... and I know I'll do great things.

Ianite: It always seemed strange to me that you would commit your life to a man constantly leaving you, when such a relationship seems more fitting to a pair of close "friends with benefits" who cross ways for a fling and bid fond farewells until the next warm season. :) That's kind of how you interact now, anyway, isn't it?

Martha: Loathe I am to admit it, but it does seem that way. I forced his hand when I proposed. Perhaps it was merely out of relief he was safe than of any real attachment.

Ianite: It seems hardly fair to make such a commitment when neither of you can reap the benefits of it. But that is my pragmatic philosophy. You have often let urges guide you instead. I can't discount that.

Martha: My urges are, well, urging me away from the situation, at least until Dianite is back. Then, reevaluation. Uncle will likely find more trips to send him out on, and he will if only to fill his role as acolyte. How different things might be if that damned Mot were still here.

Ianite: I never had much of a grasp on this Mot guy. What would he have done to change all this?

Martha: Given Dianite someone else to send on these quests, if nothing else.

Ianite: Ah. What was Mot doing on the day of the assassination, I wonder? Just a few days before the whole group left

Martha: I've seen it. Where he was... The little girl insisted on taking her "daddy" on a picnic. Mot wasn't needed that day, or so he thought. He heard Dianite's call a moment too late. When he arrived, Dianite was dead. I... I saw him crying, holding the body, and then he scooped up CountryBat and left.

Ianite: :(

Martha: I don't know how Dianite felt about him, but... Mot loved him. Unsure if it was romantically or as a son loves a father, he was. I still don't think he knows that answer. It devastated him to lose one of two people he trusted most. I think that's why he agreed to go with Spark. No. I know that's why.

Ianite: As a goddess of balance, I should have seen the opportunity for such a journey. I should have known to travel to another world to revive another god, thus influencing the revival in ours. But I was too consumed in my grief. Now I see clearly. And I see the Kikoku blade piercing his body. I don't know what it means, but I fear it is more than just a Kikoku blade.

Martha: I suspect only a true follower of Dianite will be able to even think of moving that blade from his body.

Ianite: Yes

Martha: And there are only two in our realm. ... I don't think whomever moves it will make it out alive. I have this feeling of dread whenever I reach out to scry.

Ianite: A premonition worth noting

Martha: And another reason I feel the need to stay with Steve.... because Syndi won't give his life for his god. In his world, he killed his god. It came to me once, a horrid nightmare, and I saw him claim power for a brief moment before it was stolen away and he was left a mere mortal once more.

Ianite: Hmph. Your dreaming has become quite impressive. Dare I say, you see more than I do.

Martha: The further I delve into the arts, the more I see. It's only at night... and only the nights when no one shares my bed.

Ianite: I've had very specific visions of Spark & friends in the other world, and I'm grateful for them. But as to the rest of this picture, I am fuzzy. My dreams, although innumerable, seem to be of inconsequential worlds, where beings quite different from us engage in quarrels irrelevant to ours. You see important things, Martha. And I believe these visions are given to you, and not to me, for a reason.

Martha: Perhaps because the fate of balace doesn't rest so heavily on my shoulders. Beings of magic should hold no singular god. I learned that from observing wizards. What I see will not swing the balance to one side or the other... it's educational.

Ianite: What you see may change everything. Even if you were a mortal, these visions would be important. I MEAN YOU ARE A MORTAL BUT… I'm tired. You know what I mean

Martha: I know what you mean. I only hope I don't meet Mot's fate and hear the call too late.

Ianite: It's rare for me to be tired. Sleep is usually a choice. But tonight, and on more and more nights recently, I have needed it. Well... I know you'll hear the call in time. :)

Martha: You should rest. We finish our journey to Urulu in the morning. I... well, I have a wizard waiting for me. I didn't want a space alone, even if we won't share a sleeping bag... but I think I'll stay up a little longer. I've many things to reflect on.

Ianite: ;) Goodnight

Martha: Goodnight... mum


	7. Spark's Journal 1

All I can think about is getting home to my sweet lady and my family. It eats at me every night, but I can’t seem to explain it to anyone else…

CountryBat doesn’t understand; she’s too young. She’s strong in some of the arts and she’s learning witchy ways at a good pace for her age, but she’s far too young to understand why a man might yearn for his lady love. Though as the days pass, I have more and more of a mind to adopt her as my child. Maybe I will ask her about this. Ser Jeriah, oh. My dear friend and confidant. He can play at sympathy; he left someone behind, too. He knew what it’s like. He gave away his leadership of the Blood Knights to come with me on this quest. I don’t know why. I thought he was in Mianite's good graces, but I guess I understood the Knights to be a different case. Then Mot. What possessed that man? I understand that he might be a suspect into why Dianite was killed; he should have been there. He should have seen it. He worked for the deity, after all. Why wouldn’t he have some insight into what happened? Where was he that night?

Ah, what I wouldn’t give to be home in Dagrun with Ianite and my family. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them. I’ve stopped counting the days mostly because I didn’t know numbers went that high. The little Bat didn’t know it, either. She asks me almost daily how long it has been. I felt guilty the first few days when I didn’t have an answer, but we’ve both come to accept the answer as a true unknown. I didn’t know Mot well. I knew he was a merchant, worked for Dianite. A secretary for a god… I don’t know why anyone would blame him for killing his boss and his god. What purpose would it serve? Without Dianite, the balance has been thrown off. I can only speculate as to what might be waiting for us when we get back…

If we get back.

It’s time we might start seeing that as a possibility. It’s not like this new land has been hostile. The temples built are beautiful. We can worship as we please… yet Mot is restless here, too. I don’t think Dianite has reached this land. He has his temple, but it is void of life. Has Dianite just never reached this land… or has he, too, been killed? Is that the balance we must return? Dianite is dead twice over. That must be it.

I think I just figured it out. I must tell the others. Revive Dianite, counterbalance Mianite’s growth, and return to my beloved Ianite. We can return home! We just have to do this one little thing.

One little thing… Revive a god. Yeah. Just one little thing. That’s no problem. We can do it…

Yeah… Just one little thing…

Wait for me, Ianite. Your SparkPlug will be home soon.

I promise.


	8. Spark's Journal 2

Tonight I tried asking Jeriah about his beloved, and I didn’t get much in the way of an answer. I only saw her in passing, and I can’t remember if I ever saw them together. I do remember she was pretty and always seemed amused with whatever mischief Jeriah and I got into. They made a good pair, from what I’ve heard. Ah, I remember once when Jeriah and I went to see Captain Sprinkles, the baker. The old baker was always friendly toward us. Once or twice he called me Mister Sparkly… usually after I came back from some trip covered in shiny sap on dew… or flowers. That was the little Bat’s contribution more times than not…

But I derailed myself. Little Bat was a survivor, and that was motivation enough. IF someone so young can make the best out of a rotten situation, then I can as well. I will return Jeriah to his lady, and I swear I will make it home to you, Ianite… my goddess and light of my life. Without you, everything seems dark and impossible. At first I believed…

I believed that by reviving Dianite we would restore your balance. Between your brothers, you are the center. My voice of reason. The voice of reason for so many.

I admit, it was a surprise when I first met her - met you, milady, as I hope you will read these one day, after I return. We were all raised on the stories and legends. Gods weren’t supposed to meddle with the affairs of us mortals. But then you came down, spoke to me showed me a world I never knew existed. You made me a fool of a man.

For those brief moments, I felt like a new side of the gods was revealed. A mystery with one more piece, out of the infinite possible pieces, finally revealed.

I saw a glimpse of your humanity.

I can’t explain it to anyone; they don’t understand. They don’t know this side of you, this side of any god. But… it’s what we need to know the most. The gods have humanity… but I think your brothers are afraid to show it, afraid of how we mere mortals would react. So they hide. Thank you, my love, my lady, for giving me the greatest gift of all: a glimpse beyond the veil of goddesshood to see the true you, humanity and all.


	9. Mot's Log

I don’t know what to say anymore. I’m not sure how long we’ve been here. If it weren’t for all the abandoned houses, we’d all have run out of supplies. I saw Spark writing as he does almost nightly. He means well, and he has stopped a few arguments between the “Kind Ser Jeriah” and myself, but I don’t think he understands much of anything. He may be worlds away from his family, but he only has noble ideas. He won’t have near the consequences as I face if we return as failures.

I am a humble merchant trusted by Dianite himself. Then he was killed. I suppose I owe my life to these people, this child, this idealist, and this man of force. I would be a suspect for sure. None of them know death like I do. The other men left behind families. The young lady didn’t have much to lose or gain by coming. Sometimes I wonder if Jeriah has claimed her as a sort of pet or project… or Spark, with a surplus of a family already, added her to his clan.

Those who have just keep getting more and more while those without just lose it all.

My connections were expansive and reliable. When Dianite grew tired of one, I’d replace them with someone more competent. Why did I go along with this? Right. Without this… quest? … Dianite will never return. If he doesn’t return, my business will be ruined.

Eh. Who knows? If this doesn’t work out, then there will be no balance. Without balance, one extreme will rule. The people of Ruxomar will turn to Mianite, that holy keeper of law and order. Little do they know that when law becomes too restricting, chaos will eventually resurface.

And chaos, my friend, will always win.


	10. The Reveal

Martha’s eyes widened as a familiar voice greeted her. She dropped her champion’s hand and took a few tentative steps forward. As if pushed by an unseen hand, those steps became a run. She flung her arms around her farmer’s neck, tears flowing freely, and she pressed her form hard against his. She was hit with a wave of relief, finally knowing he was okay.

He held the fledgling goddess tight. He had missed her, but after her last letter saying she wanted to break off their engagement, he had been hesitant to reinitialize contact. In this moment, however, everything else faded away.

They spoke in hushed tones, saying anything and everything that came to mind. Tears were had. Kisses were had. A brief moment where they both wanted to elope, to run away and find a bed came and went. Martha whispered something to Steve that startled him and caused him to throw a glance toward the wizard he once feuded with. Martha nodded and finally separated herself. She held Steve’s hand and led him to the group. She knew it was time to share her news, the information she had kept so carefully guarded the past few months.

“All of you know of your alternate selves… except you, my wizardly love. Well. That’s not true. You do know him, just not in such formal terms. Here he is. Your world’s wizard… and my world’s farmer.”

Stunned silence met her words. It took a moment before the grand wizard Waglington stepped forward to meet the other man. They sized each other up before Waglington extended his hand. Steve accepted the gesture. Martha felt relieved.

The next part of their journey was a blur Martha couldn’t bare to remember. Many things were said and done that ultimately resulted in meeting their final foe. Once victorious, they stood before Dianite’s body.

Steve knew what was coming before anyone else. He turned to Waglington. “Keep our lady safe, or I swear I’ll come back and give you a right rumble!”

Waglington nodded and wrapped a protective arm around his goddess, holding her close as Steve’s life ended…

and Dianite’s began anew.


	11. Mot is NOT the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat log taken from in-game during a stream.

Hey, uh, Dia? Why is there an army of mini-yous?  
Um, I wouldn't know. did someone take advantage of my body as it lay in it's rest?!?!  
I did nothing!!  
That was a quick denial.  
I already have one kid! I don't need... *counts* nine more!  
you left her. and we'll be having a discussion on that at a later date. I am disapointed.  
I would have brought her if I could, okay?  
and I always thought you would have more sympathy for orphans. I'm dead, and who knows who or where the mother is  
Mot.... I am dissapoint.  
I'm feeding them! That's enough. :-:  
well, give them a hug. kids need hugs. or something. I don't know. I never did the parent thing.  
if it'll get you off my back and to quit bein' pissy... :/  
**Thou hast been smitten!**  
OW!  
I am venting my frustrations at being unable to participate or deal with it... I don't need your complaining too.  
One of them keeps following me.  
Apparently he likes you. That one has good taste.  
I, uh... wat.


	12. Slaveboy Motty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken from a chat log during a stream

Mot_Screziato: ... is Dianite really allowe dto offer Mot as a wager? T_T  
Wisdom: Yes  
Wisdom: He is a god. He can do what he wants  
Mot_Screziato: well crap  
Spirit_Dianite: HAHA! no more sitting on yer duff startin fights boyo!  
Mot_Screziato: I will conveniently plan a trip for whatever week they choose.  
Spirit_Dianite: Then you'll have to make up time a day at a time.  
Mot_Screziato: you hate me, don't you?  
Spirit_Dianite: not at all. I'm betting you on Tucker.  
Mot_Screziato: and if he manages to win again?  
Mot_Screziato: you're gonna make me work for the soggy napkin!  
Spirit_Dianite: I'm taking steps. but this is called hedging your bets.


End file.
